Bits of Corduroy and Spots of Pink
by MacyNool
Summary: That fated first day of Harvard Law was just one of the many firsts of Elle and Emmett. There was their first weekend together. Their first fight. Their first Halloween. Elle's first quiz win. Emmett's first slumber party. Considered this the early days of Elle and Emmett.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde.**

**Presenting... The first chapter (of my first fanfic attempt)!There won't be much of Elle here because, though she was definitely intriguing then (and I'm sure she made a bit of an impact on Emmett), Emmett was in a different "place" here still. There are other things that were surely occupying his mind before and it would be fun to see that part of him (the Elle-less part).**

**Enjoy and please review! :)**

Welcome to Harvard

Three beeps and a lazy click. That was the usual wake-up call even though that morning was, according to a tattered calendar on the wall, the start of a special day. He could excuse himself for just this once and give himself a few more minutes to snooze. He deserved it. After all, this is no ordinary morning: this is the first September morning he woke up as a Harvard graduate. However, it is exactly that fact that immediately carried him out of bed. He couldn't be late on his first day to work. So, after a bowl of cereals and a quick bath, Emmett Forrest, wearing his Harvard shirt under his old corduroy jacket, dashed out the door and cycled his way to that all-too-familiar university.

Even in his determination to stay focused and serious, Emmett could not help but smile as he spotted the grand building and saw a scattered mass of new students. Three years ago, he was just like one of those nervous freshmen. Except he was never as well-dressed as them. He shrugged that thought now just as he shrugged it off before. None of that mattered much and, in fact, it mattered less when he entered the faculty building.

"Good morning, Emmett," one old professor said soberly, when he passed by. He beamed back and was thrilled inside. That was his professor during his first year in one of his classes. Actually, as he entered through another door and as he moved from place to place, he kept meeting past professors. There was Dr. Sansa, the teacher who supervised him during his first debates. She was arguing animatedly with another person when she caught sight of him and nodded at his direction. There was also Professor Connelly, dozing off on a bench. He was the first to lend Emmett a book for research once. Miss Natalie, the first teacher to shout at him for missing a question in one of their starting quizzes, smiled at him when he walked past. Mr. Boyle, the first to catch him sleeping in class, even asked him to deliver some papers quickly for him.

This buzz of people going in and out of offices was not new to him. For months, he was working in Stidwell, Zyskowski, Fox and Callahan as one of the junior associates. The environment in the firm, however, differed greatly from that of the faculty. For starters, here in the faculty, most of the people were above thirty years old. Only a couple of people were around Emmett's age and though they were teacher's assistants too, they have been there for a year or two so that they rarely stopped and mingled. Not that that was a problem for Emmett. Another difference between the faculty and the firm was that here he wasn't obliged to socialize with any of the people. He was expected to be polite, yes, but that was as far as it would go. In the firm, even though Emmett liked the company of people his age, he wasn't comfortable with being urged to go out with them everyday or every week. He just did not have the extra cash for Friday nights out.

Emmett, after doing a few favors for people he chanced upon, finally reached a particular heavy door bearing a golden plate with black letters (the letters spelled "Callahan, R."). It had a frosted glass window and seeing no blurry shadows moving behind it, Emmett proceeded to walk inside.

The office spelled class all the way from its carpeted floor to its walls lined with full book shelves. It even smelled expensive; the scent of dark wood plus a little hint of pricey cologne. The desk, where Emmett dropped some folders, was sleek, shiny and adorned with bronze Venuses. There was only one chair in the room and it was leather and black. Emmett swiveled it a bit when he moved to look out the window. The view it offered was amazing. Callahan wasn't an easy boss to work with and Emmett, though extremely patient, was oftentimes grateful for that view of the Harvards grounds. In the morning, it prepared him for the worst later while in the late afternoon (sometimes early evening), it comforted him on the regrets or failures of the past.

Emmett was watching a little chihuahua run off in the grass below when the door swung open and a tall well-suited man brisked in the office. His lips were reduced to a fine line that twisted to a slight curve, to a slight hint of a smirk. His hair was gray with specks of black. Almost instinctively, Emmett lowered his head in greeting. The man, who is Callahan, barely flicked his eyes at him. Without looking at Emmett, he asked about the firm and the course curriculum, while he assumed his seat behind his desk. Emmett, a bit stunned, answered nevertheless. He gave a few documents for Callahan to check and while his boss was scanning the papers, Emmett curiously looked outside the door, searching for a particular blonde.

"Emmett," said Callahan, finally looking at him, "Your standing around irritates me. Do something useful", and when Emmett sheepishly nodded, he added "Get me coffee."

Emmet stared for awhile like he misheard him. He looked around again then asked "Sir, um, where's Miss Caroline?" Callahan almost scoffed at him.

"Obviously not here," he replied drily as he resumed looking at the documents before him, almost finishing the small pile, "Now, that coffee, Mr. Forrest. Splenda and skim."

Confused, Emmett went outside to get that coffee. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking for a little woman with blonde hair and a tiny laugh. Caroline was Callahan's secretary and like his other secretaries, she was wherever he was; whether it be in the firm or the university. Truth be told, his secretaries don't last more than three months. The only exception was Caroline. She had been working for him for half a year. Emmett, being one of the junior associates to often visit Callahan's office, saw Caroline regularly. She was really pretty with her little mouth and her warm hazel eyes. Emmett never talked to her beyond business though. Someone was always talking to her when he passed by. When he was offered the teacher's assistant job, Emmett thought he would be seeing more of her since he would be in both the office and the university. Now, looking at the steaming cup of coffee in his hand, he wondered whether he would be seeing her anywhere at all.

By the time Emmett returned to Callahan's desk with the requested cup, Callahan was half-way through the documents. He stopped working, closed all the folders, and decided to enjoy his coffee instead. While he leaned comfortably in his chair, Emmett resumed the abandoned work. Callahan's class list and syllabus seemed untouched as it sat by the far end of the desk, exactly where Emmett had put it. To Callahan, the names in that class list were just words to be given C minuses (and very rare As) but to Emmett, they were people coming from different walks of life; they were stories that have barely begun. Just like his story three years ago.

Emmett Forrest. In high school and in college, he was dubbed a genius but, really, he was just very studious. He had to be. Studying, other than it being rewarding in terms of academic recognition and excellence, was also a distraction from the troubles of home. It gave him an excuse to stay in his room when his mother's boyfriends came over. They wouldn't try to be friends with him when he was in his study-mode, saving them from the awkward conversations. Moreover, as Emmett gained more knowledge, the farther he was from the likes of the men his mom dated.

In Harvard, however, he found many who were his equals in intellect. That made standing out more difficult. If he did stand out, it was because he was the only one who was wearing a used shirt and faded jeans on the first day. On that fated first day of school, Emmett was almost late. He rushed to class with his hair uncombed and the collar of his shirt askew. The stares he got when he stumbled inside the room... He tried to ignore them by appearing to be preoccupied with adjusting the strap of his new messenger's bag (his mother gave it to him as a college graduation gift).

He tried to make friends that day but everybody simply looked at him from head to toe before turning away. The first weeks were a struggle. Even the people in his dorm were not very friendly. Luckily, his roommate was a bit social. He was talkative and obliviously proud. A bit of a rascal, Timothy was the middle child of wealthy business tycoons. He only went to Harvard to get away from his parents' nagging. He didn't mind Emmett's study habits (actually, he never minded anything that wasn't connected to him) and he was rarely at the dorm at night that Emmett considered him a nice roommate. Timothy, despite his expensive and time-consuming lifestyle, made it out of law school alive. He scraped his way with Emmett's help. Apparently, Emmett was the best kind of cram review anyone can have. A night before an exam, he would ask Emmett to help him and in less than three hours, Timothy would have already known enough to answer about half of the test.

Emmett chuckled to himself as he remembered that that loud lanky socialite is now a successful businessman. He only contacted Emmett when he needed something. Just a couple of weeks ago, he called Emmett to look through some legal affairs for him. They may have graduated law school together but only Emmett applied for a license after graduation. He was extremely proud of that license that whenever there was an opportunity for him to use it (very rare chances, considering the jobs he has), he grabbed it eagerly.

He was already organizing the paperwork he had finished for Callahan who hadn't even finished his coffee yet, when there was a knock on the door. Almost immediately after, the door opened and a head popped in, beaming from ear to ear.

"Callahan?" the head, bald and round, inquired excitedly. Callahan looked up, put down his cup then rose from his chair.

"Fox," he greeted with sudden friendliness, gesturing him to come in and take a seat (which Emmett hurriedly vacated), "about time!".

The man named Fox rushed in and took the seat, all the while ignoring Emmett. He was talking rapidly about his commute to the university and why it took him forever to report to Callahan. He had a briefcase with him, that he rested on his lap as soon as he sat. He was in the process of opening it when Callahan cleared his throat loudly.

Fox stopped mid-sentence and noticed for the first time Emmett's presence. Almost instinctively, he shut the briefcase again. He reduced his grin to a smirk and waited. Callahan, after smoothing out his coat before sitting down, addressed Emmett.

"I think these will do," he said dismissively, pointing to all the files on the desk, "you can take them away now. I'll see you in class." Emmett nodded, took the documents and left. Before he closed the door, he heard Fox laugh about something Callahan had said.

With the class list and academic rosters at hand, Emmett grew more excited to go to class and meet the new students. He would probably be three or four years older than them which meant most of them might look up to him as a superior of some sort. Professor Emmett? Professor Forrest? He shook his head at the idea. He definitely was more cut out to be a practicing lawyer than a teacher.

When he approached the crowd of first years near the entrance gate, he noticed the same confidence he saw on the faces of his classmates years before. These students could be the same type of students who entered Harvard without breaking a single sweat. They may all think Harvard is the perfect place for them. Emmett smiled knowingly. Let's see about that.

Bearing his friendliest smile and trying not to appear too giddy, Emmett began his first welcoming remarks.

"Hello, I'm Emmett Forrest, welcome to the hallowed halls of Harvard Law..."

**So, what'dya think? Helpful reviews are highly appreciated! Thanks, lovelies!**


	2. Snaps for First Day

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde.**

**Happy happy holidays!**

**To all those who reviewed my first chapter, thank you so much! You guys were my early Christmas presents. My family got a bit weirded out 'cause I went crazy over your reviews.**

**Also, thanks to my twin for saying yes to my proposal of being my beta reader. You are amazing!**

**Anyway, we've seen Emmett in the morning of his first day as assistant teacher. Now let's see Elle by the end of her first day in Harvard Law.**

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Snaps for First day

Three-block distance in a pair of leather boots. This was like her usual afternoon walk except this time, she was doing it alone and in the street rather than in the mall. She passed by some shops and though the items in display were unlike those back home, she still felt the urge to browse in them, even if just for the sake of breathing in the air of fabric. It was a fun experience also because every time she stopped in front of a shop mirror, she would notice her unchanged hair and remember how great she felt about it. Maybe it was her personal opinion but it seemed like anything could look good on a blonde. Brunette? What was she thinking? Back in high school, while other girls dyed their hair red or pink, Elle Woods never thought of being anything other than being herself.

Now, trying out a third pink tank top, she thought it was ridiculous of her to even think of changing her hair for Warner. He adored her hair. He said it himself the first time they met. It was Tanya's party, one of the greatest bashes of the decade. Elle, only a sophomore then, was already popular in UCLA for being the only protegee of Tanya, her preceding president of Delta Nu, and for being the first sophomore to belong in the top 20 cheerleaders of UCLA. It was only right that she met the hottest man in campus: Warner Huntington III. Her superiors and friends told her about him and how he would be there on that party. Everyone agreed it was destined to be. She would have doubted it though if he hadn't come up to her in the middle of the event and, with the most charming smile she has ever seen, addressed her.

"Sorry, but don't I know you? I think I've seen you before."

"Well, if you were there in last week's game, maybe you have."

"Right. You're the pretty cheerleader in the front line."

"That could be anyone."

"No, no. You were the only blonde beauty in that row."

"Good eye, Mister..."

"Huntington III. Warner Huntington III. And no. I just have a weakness for blondes, you most especially, Miss..."

"Woods. Elle Woods."

"Woods? Miss Woods?" The voice of a woman called her out of her reverie. Elle blinked rapidly and focused back to the polished desk of the cashier, the five items of clothing on it and the glistening credit card at the end of the sales clerk's hand. She grinned sheepishly at the woman.

"Sorry 'bout that. Spaced out there, didn't I?" chirped Elle, finishing her transaction. The sales clerk just apologetically smiled back, "It's been such. A. Day. I think I need a latte. Do you know any coffee shops nearby?". The woman stared for a bit at her openness then gave her directions to a couple cafes in the area. She shook her head after Elle left with a very cheerful goodbye.

That was no lie, of course. It had really been such a day, one unlike she has ever had before. There were so many new things. The place itself was foreign; that was a given, and so was the newness of the people. No. What Elle found strange was the novel experiences she had had that day. Being kicked out of class. Being friendless. Seeing the love of her life date an evil preppy. Going to a salon without getting anything done. Not that she complained about that last one. Paulette was, without a doubt, the kindest and most helpful hair dresser she has ever met. She would forever be indebted to her for talking her out of that I-want-to-go-brunette craziness she had.

"Totally crazy," Elle said to herself, as she walked up the stairs of her dorm with an arm full of shopping bags. Her daddy was incredibly nice to pay for her tuition, her dorm and to give her an extra credit card for "miscellaneous" expenses. He told her to use it only for emergencies but he never specified what events counted as emergencies. To Elle, getting Warner back was the top most priority. His association to this Vivienne woman was absolutely alarming, making shopping an utmost necessity.

"Is this really necessary?" Elle heard a girl shout at the top of the stairs. When she reached the landing, she saw a short girl with her black hair in a ponytail. She was furiously banging on the door opposite Elle's room. She wore red thick-rimmed glasses and a long brown knitted shirt. Her denim shorts were barely peeping from under it. Elle was wondering where she could but a top like that when she saw the girl wasn't wearing anything on her feet but a pair of striped socks. The girl sighed in exasperation and turned sharply to leave when she noticed Elle.

"Hey," Elle smiled sympathetically. The girl refused to look at her and instead, fidgeted with the ends of her sleeves. "Having trouble with roommates?", Elle asked.

"It's not really your business," replied the girl pointedly, but still not making eye contact.

"Okay, okay," said Elle lightly, as she turned her back on the girl to open her door, "There's no need to be snappy. We all have our rough days. Doesn't make anything better by being negative about it." She heard the girl scoff behind her. Elle could not help but roll her eyes. Did everyone in campus really have to be so rude? As she entered her room, she heard the retreating angry footsteps of the stranger descend the stairs.

Initially, she was excited about having a roommate but her daddy insisted that "his Button should not be bothered by annoying roomies who could be addicts, whores, – or worse – nerds". Therefore, there she was. She had a whole room to herself. At least, she could decorate the room pink without any complaints. Plus, she got to keep Bruiser.

"I'm home!" cried Elle, and the chihuahua came barking and running to her from the bed. He leapt to her arms and licked her face excitedly, "I missed you too, buddy. I have so much to tell you." The dog barked happily in response. She put him down then talked to him about her day while she changed to more comfortable clothes.

Her Delta Nu sisters haven't called yet but they sent her text messages during the day.

Pilar was having a great time in Europe as the pictures she sent to everyone showed. Elle pinned the photos on her sparkly cork board and sighed at them every once in a while. Spain looked particularly festive. Maybe she and Warner could go there some time. When they get together again.

Serena was busy with her work-out and training. She had just been hired by UCLA to coach the cheer leading team. Elle may be the president of their sorority but she wasn't the fiercest girl in the group. She could still remember Serena's screaming match with a rival cheer leading team.

Margot was recently gushing over a new dude she had met. They were going on their third date that evening. Her dating record isn't exactly short or clean. She had dated a lot of men and several of her relationships did not end well. People have also given her different awful names (some she didn't even try to deny) but Elle knew Margot was just a hopeless romantic like herself, who never gives up on love.

Elle really wanted to hear from all her sorority sisters but she dreaded telling them how her day went. She was the leader of Delta Nu. That meant being their model and getting kicked out of class on the first day was not something a role model should tell her followers.

Surprisingly, the first Delta Nu to call her was the one she least expected to.

"Elle?"

"Shut up! Kate?" exclaimed Elle, holding her phone closely to her ear.

"Yes, sweetie. It's me," said Kate, her excitement apparent from the other line, "So tell me. What's Havard like?" Elle chuckled a little at Kate's poor attempt to hide her real intention for calling.

"A bit... Out of this world. Everything and everyone is so serious. And a bit rude," she added, gaining an amused laugh from Kate, "And the campus is, like, so huge! Bruiser and I almost got lost. Anyway, they wouldn't let dogs in the buildings. Poor Bruiser had to spend the day in my room. Well, at least he got to finish a season of Days of our Lives. Right, honey?" saying that last bit more to Bruiser than to Kate.

"How are your classmates? Professors?"

"Classmates are a bit of snobs. Or maybe just seriously serious. The professors are..." Elle thought for a while then blushed to remember that she only met one today and it wasn't a very good first impression, "Scary."

"Scary?"

"Yeah. Like they're ready to eat you up or something. No mercy. No second chances."

"Well, maybe just 'cause it's the first day."

"Maybe," then Elle added while rolling her eyes, "Hopefully maybe"

"And how are your studies?"

"Kate, as you said, it's just the first day. Who knows yet?"

"Right. Sorry," Kate winced in the other line, "How about you? How are you doing?"

Elle hesitated a bit before she answered. "Well, I'm okay." It didn't sound like a lie. Perhaps it wasn't.

All this time she had been thinking more about the negative things that had happened to her when in fact, there were positive things too. For starters, it was real. She really did pass Harvard and being kicked out of class could be considered proof of that. Nobody gets kicked out of a class they don't belong to in the first place, right?

Then, there was Warner. Warner Huntington III! And she saw him and he saw her and they were sharing a class together! That was the most wonderful part of the day and not even that Vivienne could destroy that.

Speaking of Vivienne... She too was someone to be thankful for. She wasn't that bad. She was kind enough to invite Elle to a costume party (which is her favorite kind of party). Paulette, her new friend, would help her with that.

So, there was Warner, Vivienne, Paulette and even that young scruffy teacher's assistant (who was the only guy who wasn't sarcastic to her; he even went out of his way to comfort her about getting kicked out of class). Kate was right. It was only the first day. The rest of the school year was still ahead of them. So many things could still happen.

"Yeah, I am okay," continued Elle, growing more optimistic each moment, "And I think I will be from now on. Thanks, Kate".

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**Yes. I just discovered these babies (I mean the horizontal line breaks ^). They're kind of awesome.**

**Anyway, reviews are more than appreciated (they are revered and adored actually). So, tell me what you think, lovelies!**

**[Just a little teaser. I kind of love the next chapter. But then again. That's just me.]**


	3. Duty Calls

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde. I do not own Emmett Forrest either. Sigh.**

**Halloo, lovelies! Happy New Year! Back to school for me. So, sorry, in advance, for delayed postings.**

**Before anything, thanks for the ones who reviewed the past chapters! You are all awesooome! And, thank you to my brilliant beta reader! I got so psyched when you noticed the little details I wanted you to notice. Oooh... Twin telepathy!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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Duty Calls

There seemed to be no rest for the weary. After the barely five hours of silence (accentuated only by tired soft snores), the room was alive again; this time with the smell of coffee wafting through the air. The blinds were still down but the light was already streaming in, making more shadows than light. Though he tried to stifle it, Emmett released a yawn and groggily stirred the contents of his mug. His clock would say it was too early to get up on such a day as that but the messages on his phone said otherwise.

This wasn't unusual, however. Emmett had never really acknowledged the weekends. All the days of the week were the same to him. When he was young, the case was different; but that was a long time ago. He rubbed his eyes sleepily before he turned to the stack of papers strewn on his tiny desk. Finishing the paperwork was one thing; delivering them was another. If it was another day, he would rather do the former and leave the latter. Yet, today, he decided to do things efficiently.

Fortunately, though he ignored the differences of weekends and weekdays, other people did not. That meant he could take his time. At least, take enough time enjoying his cup of coffee. Drinking coffee was now simply an activity of leisure. Caffeine no longer had any effect on him. There are some habits that do not die. Besides, the bitterness was a taste he found pleasing and familiar.

Growing up, he had to be accustomed to it. He had been to more cheap motels and dirty diners than he would care to remember. His mother struggled with cooking (if ever she did cook) and for the first seven years of his life, he had to endure either microwavable meals or burnt canned goods.

Emmett's cell phone buzzed and Emmett softly laughed as he thought how uncanny it was when that happens. Whenever he thought deeply of his mother, coincidentally, she would call out of the blue. She often jokingly said that it was her mother's instincts kicking in. Emmett never doubted it though he never admitted it either.

"You called," Emmett simply stated, his tone still raspy with sleep. He took another sip of coffee.

"And you didn't last night," his mother's voice was always a combination of serious and chirpy. Maybe it was because of her high-pitched voice. Or maybe because he knew too much of her mood swings to believe she can be two things at the same time. His sigh sent ripples through his coffee.

"I was working last night, Ma."

"Would it kill you to have a few minutes with your own mother?"

Despite her attack at his neglect, he softly laughed at her. He checked the time then thought he could take those few minutes she wanted.

"Okay, okay. I can talk now. What do you want to know?"

"I want to know everything. Tell me about your first week as a teacher assistant in Harvard," she said that last bit very proudly that Emmett thought he could hear her straighten up when she said it.

"Well, it was pretty..." he tried to keep in his excitement but he soon gave up, "Amazing! You wouldn't believe it, Ma..."

Then he went on to tell her about the professors and what it felt like being there to see all the "academic action" happen before him. Emmett knew his mother greatly appreciated his enthusiasm for education and law. He felt sad about that because she had so much going for her in high school. She was about to graduate when she had Emmett. During her time, it was a struggle to be young and pregnant. The doors that used to be wide open for her were instantly shut in her face. Plus, it didn't help that her high school sweetheart left her to pursue a college degree.

Emmett tried to tell everything about the week in great detail. He wanted his mother to feel as if she too was there. Also, he, himself, wanted to feel like she was there with him. The guilt brought on by his negligence to call his mother joined the pile of other things that bore down on him. There was only himself and his mother to take care of but the responsibility of raising the family from poverty remained heavy on his shoulders.

"... Then he said if we hadn't found the files in time, we would've been dead meat. Needless to say, we nailed the case," concluded Emmett, with his mouth full. He was done with his cup of coffee and was on to finishing a sandwich he had just made.

"That's great, Em!" his mother gushed, then she paused and asked, "So you're done with the case? What are you working on today?"

"Well, I checked test papers last night. I have to bring them back to the faculty today."

"But can't it wait until Monday?"

"It can," said Emmett slowly, frowning at his empty plate, as he set it down the sink, "But I can't. Anyway, I plan to do other stuff as well, so might as well do this, too."

"Oooh, personal stuff?" his mother asked teasingly. Emmett thought that his mother definitely loved imagining that he had a life other than his job and his own mom. He liked to think that, too, once in a while, but circumstances had other plans.

"Nope. Just extra teacher's assistant stuff. A student of Callahan has been missing class for awhile now. I plan to make a visit. Check if everything's fine."

"Is that really part of your job?"

"No. But, in any case, I think it should."

"You're always too sweet, Em," his mother said, both endearingly and worriedly. Then, her tone back to teasing, "I have no idea where you got that".

"I have no idea either," replied Emmett, smiling all the while. His mother laughed heartily. She seemed many years younger when she giggled like that. Emmett could almost hear the high school girl who used to dream of becoming a wealthy lawyer's wife before she became a poor junior associate's mother instead.

"Right," she said once she calmed down, "Anyway, if you plan to be so busy today – of all days – then go ahead. I won't be keeping you. But I will expect a call from you later, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"G'bye, honey. Have a great day! Don't work yourself too hard."

"Sure, Mom. Bye."

With that, Emmett put down his cell, left it on top of the mess of papers on his desk, and got ready to go out. He emerged from the bathroom wearing a loose gray T-shirt and his most comfortable pair of jeans. In no hurry, he gathered the scattered test papers, inserted them in a folder then carefully put them in his messenger bag. He may be going out to work but he decided to leave the corduroy jacket. It was a Saturday anyway. That thing needed to rest.

The cycle to Harvard was easier that day. People on the road were scarce. Summer has ended but the air was still warm. By the time Emmett reached the faculty building, his skin was slightly damp with sweat. His bike was the only bicycle in the parking lot. He skipped up the stairs, pushed the glass doors open. The place seemed empty. He heard a few faint footsteps scattered about. His own strides echoed softly across the marble floors. Then, not far down the hall, he heard the usual whistling of the janitor.

"Emmett," said the old janitor, beaming at him toothlessly with a mop at one hand, "Always the early bird."

"Morning, Jimmy," said Emmett, slowing down his pace to a halt, "Just passed by to drop some test papers". Jimmy, the janitor, was skinny and tall. He had a bushy mustache that covered most of his upper lip and almost concealed his lack of teeth (except when he smiled). The creases on his face were light but many. His voice was hoarse with old age but he tried to fit his words to the times.

"Shouldn't you be in bed with a hang-over or something like that? Kids like you shouldn't be too hardworking."

"I have bills to pay, Jim."

"Sometimes," said Jimmy, leaning on his mop like a wise hermit with a staff, "I wonder who's the old man between the two of us. You'll see, Emmett. Life will move in its own pace whether you speed it up or not."

"Spoken like a true teenager," replied Emmett, jokingly, "But seriously, Jim, you're the sort of person who gets younger everyday"

"You know you've gone low when you start flattering unsuspecting old men," laughed Jimmy, breaking his laughter with a few loud coughs, "Emmett, do yourself a favor and use those pick-up lines on a girl around your age or younger. Today!"

"I thought life will move in its own pace."

"Life will, yes. But love won't. That one you have to take. And A-S-A-P."

"Well," said Emmett, sighing though he found the old janitor's romantic ideals amusing, "Maybe so. But for now, I have to get these papers to three desks".

"Go on then," said Jimmy, chuckling at Emmett's flat apathy for romance, "Watch where you step though. I just mopped near the doors"

"Okay. Thanks, Jim."

As Emmett deposited each folder of checked test papers, his mind wandered to the subject he had always tried to set aside. It wasn't that he was a cold unfeeling person. He wasn't even the serious and aloof type either. The problem, as his mother loved pointing out, was his tendency to see romance as something for the future. Love was a prize he could not (and would not) claim until he had accomplished everything he set out to achieve. If he felt something now, he would set it aside, delaying gratification. But he still yearned for it as any other man would.

After setting down Callahan's quizzes, Emmett remembered Lea, the only girl he was ever romantically attracted to. She was one of the first girls he met when he and his mother decided to settle in Roxbury. She grew up with her own share of family drama. Abusive father. Dead mother. Two half-siblings. She and Emmett, both dreaming to go as far away as possible from the slums, hit it off immediately when they met. He could still remember her long brown hair that reached to her elbows and her big round blue eyes that could cry at will. He remembered her even when he hadn't seen her since she left for New York. They never openly dated but they had a mutual understanding that they both liked each other. Emmett didn't dare ask her out though because he was afraid of spoiling their dream careers and, subsequently, any chance of a serious relationship. Surely she felt the same.

However, it has been seven years since they have seen each other. The last time Emmett heard of Lea, she was a drama school teacher in a pre-school and the fiancee of an accountant. She sent him an invitation online. She never returned home to Roxbury.

"See you around, Emmett," said Jimmy, waving a dirty rag in the air, as Emmett passed his way. Emmett smiled back and made a small salute, turning to leave the building, with his messenger back noticeably lighter than before. He unchained his bike then rode to the dorms. Strangely, he knew more people in the faculty than he did where the students were plenty. Perhaps Jimmy was right. He was getting older too soon with the company he was keeping.

He was relieved to recognize some faces from the couple of classes he assisted. Some waved at him as he cycled by. Others (very few) called out his name. All the while, he smiled and nodded back. Finally, he reached the building and after resting his bike on a wall, he entered the dorm. He had the address on a piece of paper and he checked it once in a while. He ascended a short flight of stairs. A girl in a black ponytail was going down. He stopped her and asked for a certain dormer. At first, she bluntly claimed she knew no one of the sort. He pressed on and added details: blonde hair, always wears pink, carries a dog.

"Oh, you mean Miss Barbie," the girl said flatly, "She's in that room opposite mine. The door to the right from the landing". She pointed it out to Emmett and left without hearing his thanks. He lingered awkwardly before she took her directions and knocked on the said door.

The dorm was not as noisy as he expected it to be. But then again, it was still morning. He pressed his ear on the door and heard a dog bark. He was definitely in the right place. Three knocks. Still no answer. He tried again, this time louder and more urgent. He was on to his seventh knock when he heard a loud groan from the other side. The sound of things being messily set aside escaped from the room. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he rubbed the back of his neck as he thought he might have gone too far. There was the brief sound of chains then the clinking of the door knob. The door opened a bit and there she was. Emmett smiled apologetically.

She was leaning on the door frame, her blonde hair spilling onto her cheeks. Her eyes were covered by large dark sunglasses. A bit of pink lipstick was smudged on her lips. On her feet, she wore pink fuzzy bedroom slippers that must have come together with the pink bathrobe she was wearing. Emmett, however, noticed she was wearing something not pink underneath. She was wearing a white T-shirt that seemed to be two sizes bigger than her. When she raised her arm to comb away the hair from her face, her T-shirt hitched up to reveal her pink boylegs. Emmett cleared his throat. She closed her bathrobe and kept her arms crossed across her stomach.

"Miss Woods," he began then smirked as he tried to recall the rest of her name, "Comma Elle?"

"Uh-huh."

"Um, I'm -"

"Wait!" she exclaimed, suddenly raising herself, "Ohmigod!"

Emmett blinked. She looked alarmed.

"Don't tell me I assaulted you last night. 'Cause, believe me, I didn't mean it. It was a mistake. Well, that eighth shot was a mistake. But I hope you understand that this was all a misunderstanding. I am never usually-"

"Relax," said Emmett, holding his hands up towards her, half-worried and half-amused at how fast she could speak, "We didn't see each other last night. Actually, we haven't seen each other for three days."

"Someone's been counting."

"Well, yes," he admitted, slightly taken aback by Miss Woods' comment, "I have. I'm Emmett Forrest, one of the teacher's assistants here. I checked the Professor Callahan's class record and noticed you've been absent for three days. I'm just here to check if everything's alright."

He wasn't sure if she was listening to him. Her sunglasses were so dark that all he saw was his bloated reflection on it. For a moment, he fidgeted with the strap of his bag.

"So... I know you're not from around here and that you didn't attend the orientation seminar but I assume you have the dorm brochure," he continued. Then, from his bag, he took out a glossy folded paper and showed it to Miss Woods. She slowly shook her head. He sighed then handed her his.

"Also, here are the directions for the pharmacy and the nearest hospital," he said, giving her little maps. Miss Woods took them and was looking through them one by one. Emmett couldn't see her eyes but he noticed her bite her lip and wince. Dropping his attempts at formality, Emmett decided to take the friendlier approach. He leaned closer to her and focused his gaze on her shades.

"Hey," said Emmett, adapting a softer tone and looking serious but friendly, "I know people say when you reach Harvard Law you're on your own. Every man for himself and all that. That may be true. But if someone offers help, — and mind you, that can be a bit rare — you should take it." Exchanging smiles, they seemed to have understood each other. Emmett, feeling that his message had come across, stepped back while Miss Woods moved her sunglasses to the top of her head like a headband. Her eyes looked puffy and tired but nevertheless sparkled as she beamed at him.

"Thanks, Professor."

"Please. It's Emmett," said Emmett, smiling. Then, feeling a little self-conscious, he asked shyly, "And do I really look like a professor?"

"Now," she said, noticing his shirt and jeans, "You don't." Emmett openly laughed at her frankness. She herself started giggling. The faint lines under her eyes disappeared and she looked less sleepy. Behind her, the room was dark (the blinds were down) but some light in the hallway reached her, making her look just as she was on her first day in Harvard Law.

"Anyway," said Emmett, seeing she was better now, "I better go. I'll leave you to rest. You'll need a lot of energy for Monday". Not that she lacked that, Emmett thought.

Miss Woods, surprisingly, slumped back and frowned.

"I don't think I'll go to class next week,"

"Sorry. What?"

"Tell me," she said, as if challenging him, "Why will I go to class when Professor Callahan will just kick me out?"

"Attendance?" replied Emmett, narrowing his eyes at her, not sure if she was serious, "You know, it can still affect your grade. And getting kicked out isn't considered an absence."

There was a pause as she considered this. The dorm was beginning to gather life. In the corner of his eye, Emmett saw a bunch of students climb up the stairs while somewhere, a couple of doors were opening and closing.

"I know it's none of my business," he said, briefly glancing at his watch, "But I thought you wanted to see more of Mister Huntington,"

"And I thought you were going to help me."

"I told you to read your readings," he reminded her, and when she scowled, he added, gentler this time, "And this is me helping you." She nodded and returned to smiling again. He was about to ask her if she needed anything else when, suddenly, his cellphone rang. He fished it out from his pockets and saw he received a text. Miss Woods stepped back inside her room and waited while tying the belt of her bathrobe.

"Sorry 'bout that," Emmett smirked apologetically, "But I think I really got to go,"

"Oh, no. I'm sorry," Miss Woods chirped, looking more like her usual self, "You shouldn't have come. But thanks a lot that you did. And thank you, too, for the brochures and the maps. I'm sure they'll help me. Though I'm a bit weak with maps. But I'll manage."

"No problem. So, I'll see you on Monday, Miss Woods?"

"Miss Woods? Call me Elle," she said, giggling and holding out her hand, "And yes, you can bet I'll be there. Thanks to you, of course."

They shook hands then Emmett turned to leave. Before he stepped down the stairs, he looked back and saw Elle waving happily at him. He returned the gesture with one uncertain wave of his hand. Going down the stairs, he heard a little dog bark.

"Would you look at that, Bruiser," he heard Elle say, "There are still some friendly people in Harvard. Now, honey, no more talking for a while. I'll be needing my beauty sleep. And my head is still pounding like crazy..." Her voice trailed away then she shut her door.

Emmett shook his head, finding it difficult to believe that such a girl existed in Harvard. She didn't seem to fit with anything. Not with the dull wallpaper of the buildings. Not with the serious polished floors of the rooms. Not even with the well-trimmed hedges in the campus grounds. However, Emmett had to admit: somehow, she belonged here. She got a 4.0 average in Fashion Merchandising (he was actually shocked to find out there was such a course). She passed the LSATs with flying colors. Plus (and he still could not imagine how it had happened), her entrance essay was a performance with the band and cheer team of UCLA. Several members in the faculty were barely impressed with her credentials. Emmett, on the other hand, was completely fascinated when he read it on her file. She was different and, as experience has taught Emmett, that was a great thing.

He was thinking about how diverse the student body was that school year, when he remembered to check his phone. With one hand frozen on the handle of his bike, he read the text he received. The head associates of the firm scheduled an emergency meeting. It was about to start in five minutes. Groaning about how no one ever informs him ahead of time, Emmett quickly rode his bike and cycled nervously to the firm. He seemed to be the only one in the firm without a car. People in the office appear to always forget that. Or perhaps they simply chose to ignore it. Ignore him.

* * *

**TRIVIA: This was originally titled Morning Calls but because of a little confusion with the DocX and stuff, I had to change it.**

**So... How was it? Review if you can. :D Thanks, lovelies!**

***whispers: I'm currently addicted to Spamalot. All I want to do is sing... "Where are you? Oh, where are you? Where are you, my heart's desire?"**


	4. Big Wordy Book

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde: The Musical.**

**I know. This is really late. And I'm afraid this is how late I'm gonna update from now on (blame my acads and my fandom life). So, how are ya, lovelies? Thanks to my past reviewers again! I love you all! I hope this does not disappoint.**

**And to you, my wonderful beta reader, I love you sooo much! Thank you for doing this even if you're super swamped with acad work. Also, I never thought I would love seeing red texts in my work. You make me wanna be better. Thanks, twin! :')**

* * *

Big wordy book

He was impossibly dreamy. There was no way he could not be. Standing there amidst the books, his wavy brown locks bouncing softly as he shook his head, his dazzling brown eyes searching determinedly the line of books before him, his chiseled jaw moving ever so slightly while reading the titles on the spines; he made being in a library look so good. Elle's heart skipped a beat as he pulled out a book. Why hadn't she seen this serious side of him before? Perhaps there never was a chance. They took different courses and they met only during breaks and after class. Elle sighed as she stared at the godly figure standing just a foot away from her. Now, he seemed to be busy every time he saw her (or, more accurately, when she saw him). Either that, or he was with that Vivienne girl.

Like now. If that tall woman with the mousy blunt bob were not around, Elle would not have to resort to peeking between gaps in bookshelves to see Warner. She would have just walked straight to him and struck a conversation. It was not that she was frightened of Vivienne. She simply felt uncomfortable around her. Growing up, Elle was used to being adored. She was her parents' only child so she was showered with affection and much attention. During high school, the mean looks she got were out of jealousy and she understood that and always forgave them for it. Still, nobody has ever looked at her with so much hatred. Until recently, that was. Vivienne always glared at her as if all she wished for was for Elle to leave. And it weakened Elle's confidence.

Looking at Warner from the other side of a bookshelf, Elle wondered where she had gone wrong. She gave Warner everything he could want and more. And, he never showed he was displeased with anything she did or said. They never fought or argued. While other couples would have time-outs and hang-ups, Elle and Warner only had the sweetest times together. Even the Delta Nu girls claimed that they were the perfect couple. Was it that? Was their relationship so good it could not be true? Warner seemed to have seen the slope. He thought that the break-up was something they mutually felt for a long time. This was what she could not bear to think. He had been feeling the relationship go south and yet he had never said a thing. He neither frowned nor shook his head. Even while delivering the bad news, he remained charming and sweet.

"Maybe you should start looking somewhere else," Elle heard Vivienne hiss at Warner, "than staying at the same goddamn shelf for almost an hour!" She sharply turned away and left Warner to groan behind her. Elle watched intently. There, right, there! They never had quarrels like that. Elle never hissed at Warner even when she was particularly cross about something. She knew Warner well. He could not possibly be in love with a woman who treats him like a child. Other men would have found that sexy or attractive. But not Warner. "Not my Warner", thought Elle. Mean as it was to think of it, Elle believed that Vivienne was just Warner's rebound girlfriend; chosen because she was Elle's opposite. If that was to be true, then Vivienne deserved pity.

"Poor girl," Elle said to herself as she promised to herself to replace any hateful feelings she felt for Vivienne for feelings of sympathy instead. It would be absolutely devastating to her when Warner finally dumps her to go back to Elle. "But what's meant to be is meant to be," Elle thought, shrugging away her conscience. She came to Harvard for one purpose. The battle to get her destined love will be fierce. There will be no room for sentiments or mercy. Surely, Vivienne understood that. Maybe that is why she has been this rude all along.

Warner moved to look at another bookshelf. Elle followed him, still hidden. When she was sure Vivienne was nowhere in sight, she moved forward to have a quick chat with Warner. She grabbed a random book from the bookshelf, opened it, and, while occasionally glancing at the page before her, slowly walked toward him. She was playing this charade of reading when someone bumped her from behind. Startled, she quickly turned around. Before her, looking just as surprised, was Emmett Forrest, Callahan's teaching assistant. He was wearing his usual corduroy jacket. Under it, peeked a plain blue shirt. He was also wearing a pair of very loose white pants. On his feet were red sneakers. Elle had never seen such awfully mismatched clothes on a man. However, when Emmett, with wide clear eyes and a messy set of hair, stuttered an apology, Elle thought it was wiser not to mention it.

"Elle Woods," Emmett said, once he realized who he bumped into, "What a surprise! Sorry I didn't notice you earlier."

"Oh, it must be because of the skirt," Elle said, gesturing down at her pink pencil-cut skirt, "I don't usually wear pencil-cut because it's just too stiff and a bit long for my legs. But the color was nice so I thought 'what the heck' and bought it. It makes my hips look wide but I'll compromise. For law, right?" Then, she laughed and playfully slapped Emmett's arm. Emmett awkwardly chuckled back. Elle remembered Emmett may not be interested in fashion (if he was, he wouldn't be wearing those slacks). She cleared her throat and started again.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Um, I'm here to return some books," he replied, drumming his fingers on a couple of books in his arms, "You?"

"Oh, I was just..." Elle looked around and realized she had lost Warner. She didn't even get to say hello to him. It saddened her to think that all those years with him had gone down to this: she, acting like a complete stalker for him and he not knowing about it at all. This must be how those less popular girls in high school felt. She was staring at the spot where Warner stood when Emmett's voice called her out of her thoughts.

"Everything alright?" Emmett inquired, concerned, trying to see what Elle was looking at.

"Yeah, I..." then Elle shook her head, and looked back at Emmett, "I sometimes space out."

She forced out a laugh. To herself, however, she wondered why that was happening more often. She has been spacing out since day one in Harvard. Or perhaps since that awful night when Warner... She didn't like to think of that again. Maybe frequent spacing out was the effect of Harvard. Elle uncomfortably looked around, taking in the feeling of being surrounded by countless of large thick books. All these, she thought, were written by people; by actual people with actual lives. It was amazing! There must be a lot of really smart people in the world.

For the first time, Elle felt something she has never felt before. She felt small. It wasn't that she always felt that she was the best or that she felt she was better than everyone else. Indeed, Elle was pretty, funny, generous, smart but she was also always modest. She felt she was in the same platform as everyone else. No one was greater and, therefore, no one was smaller either. So, this feeling of smallness that overwhelmed her was something new. Suddenly, the book in her arms was too heavy for her.

"Wait," said Emmett, when she raised the book to return it to the shelf, "I know that book."

She looked curiously at him then at the book. She didn't notice the cover before. The book was thick and the cover was hard-bound but the title was in bright red. There were childish pictures in the front and some speech bubbles.

"That's a nice book," he said, beckoning her to let him see it; she obliged, still curious. Pinning the other two books he had under his arms, he opened the book and scanned through the pages. Stopping and smiling at a page or two, he added, "Just right for you, actually."

"Perfect for a blonde, you mean," Elle said sourly, when she saw the pages were filled with colorful pictures and big bold words. She was recalling Vivienne's words about how law books didn't come with pictures. Emmett was there then. Elle glared at Emmett but her expression melted as she noticed his smile was not mean or teasing.

"No. Perfect for a beginner," he said, simply, still scanning the book, "Growing up, the only books I liked reading were comic books. So you could imagine how hard law jargon was for me at first. From speech bubbles to court cases. That's a huge leap. A leap anyone would definitely need help with. And this book," holding up the bright book, "helped me."

Elle thought about this. She wasn't much of a reader either. A reader of books, that is. She had read tons of magazines, of course. She liked perusing coffee table books while waiting for her dentist. They do count as books, right? But Emmett was right. Those were nothing like law books. Kate, who helped her study for the LSATs, bought her some before the school started. Elle tried opening a couple of them but the titles were too long and complicated. Plus, they sounded dull.

Emmett returned the book to her. The book didn't seem as heavy as before. Keeping it close to her chest, Elle imagined a young law student with messy locks and in a corduroy jacket, reading comic books in a corner. Now, looking at the present Emmett, she couldn't imagine him having a difficult time reading law books. He didn't seem the type. Then again, he did say he was kicked out of class before. Elle smiled while she thought that she should know better than to typecast people because of their appearance.

"Didn't you feel embarrassed about reading something like this?" Elle asked, still surprised with how silly the book looked compared to the other books around her.

He started shaking his head then smiled as he conceded, "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Of course, I did. I even made sure none of my classmates were around when I borrowed it. But you see? Being embarrassed about it didn't stop me from reading it. You don't make emotions obstacles to your success."

"Wow! That's nice and wordy," Elle smiled, mulling the words in her mind, "Who said that?"

"Um... I did."

"Well, if you aren't Mr. Smarty-pants," Elle said, resting her back on the bookshelves behind her, grinning sarcastically at Emmett, "And here I thought I already had someone whom I can relate to."

Emmett colored then laughed and looked down at his shoelaces, all of a sudden, overcome by shyness. There was a small commotion somewhere in the library. The warning ringing of a bell by the librarian's desk echoed around the room and hushed the rising murmurs. The library was becoming more crowded. Elle watched Emmett check his scratchy old watch; it must have just struck noon.

"How about this?" Emmett said, looking up at Elle, "I'll borrow that book for you so that you won't feel bad about it. Anyway, I intend to return these books which I think you'll need. It won't be much trouble. What do you say?"

Elle agreed and they went off to the checkout counter. There was a long line filled with five or more students carrying about two books each. Emmett waited in front of Elle and occasionally tilted out of the line to check if it was moving or not. Once in a while, he would turn his head and glance at her as if to see if she was still there. She would catch his eye and they would exchange a few awkward smiles. Back in the front desk, the woman was having trouble with the records. She left her post, leaving a few people to grunt and groan at her departure.

"You need any help with your things?" Elle offered, tiptoeing to whisper at Emmett's ear. Emmett, startled at Elle's almost hissed offer, turned around abruptly and nearly hit the guy in front of him with his messenger bag. He muttered a hurried sorry then adjusted the strap of his bag.

"What? Uh, no. But thank you."

"Okay," said Elle, nodding her head slowly. Another brief sharing of smiles passed between them. The guy behind Elle coughed violently, pushing Elle forward. She grabbed Emmett's back and, like a domino, made Emmett and the ones before him, trip and totter. For the second time, Emmett had to bow apologetically to the person standing ahead of him; the person was beginning to look disgruntled. Elle loudly whispered her apologies.

When the commotion died and the woman at the desk still had not returned, Elle looked over Emmett's shoulder to see the titles of the books he was holding. Noticing her efforts at the corner of his eye, he turned around with an inquiring look. Elle thought that maybe she had annoyed him but he only looked amused.

"You read those books or are you returning them for other embarrassed freshmen?"

"Well, I did read these books but, now, I'm actually returning them for Professor Callahan."

"Oh, Professor Cold-hearted," Elle could not help but roll her eyes when she said it. The memory of her first Harvard embarrassment still stung her and apparently, it was a scene not easily forgotten by either her or the rest of the class. She remembered attending the next day's class with high spirits only to be sent away again because she couldn't answer one of his numerous hypothetical questions. After that second failure, she didn't attend the rest of the week's classes. If it wasn't for Emmett's visit, she wouldn't return on Monday (which turned out to be just a repeat of the first two meetings).

"I think he's more famous as Callahan C-Minus."

"Doesn't change the fact that he's mean and cold-hearted."

"He's just very... proud," Emmett said, cautiously, "And disciplined."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Elle exclaimed, blushing and slightly ashamed, "I forgot he's your boss. Well, I hope he's a much better boss to you than he is a teacher to us." The last thing she wanted right now was to offend the single person in Harvard who had been extra kind to her. However, Emmett was not the least bit concerned or hurt.

"He was my professor before and he is my boss now but I don't agree with all his methods," he admitted, shrugging, "Even if I've learned a lot from him."

Finally, the front desk was occupied and the line moved. While waiting, becoming more relaxed, Elle and Emmett discussed the two thick books the latter carried. At first, Elle asked questions as to entertain Emmett. She thought it was the least she could do after everything he had done for her. Also, she tried her best to listen to what he was saying. Understanding his words was surprisingly easy that she thought that he was dumbing down terms for her. He spoke with many pauses though he seemed to become more energetic as the discussion progressed.

Emmett was telling her the concluding parts of the first chapter, when they found themselves at the head of the line. Elle tapped his shoulder while the woman with the grumpy expression sitting behind the desk, cleared her throat loudly and knocked impatiently on the desk. Much to Elle's amazement, when Emmett turned to apologize, the woman's frown turned into a small smile. She took the books from his hand so obligingly, as if she was glad to relieve them from him. He didn't seem to notice though. The woman, who Emmett called Miss Harris and who Elle supposed was already in her late thirties, suddenly worked with a youthful energy. She even made a bit of small talk with Emmett, asking him questions about his mother and his work in a law firm. Elle didn't even know that Emmett had another job. Inevitably overhearing the conversation, she found out much about the amiable teacher assistant: that he was residing in an apartment nearby (rather than with his mother who lived not very far off) and that he was a hard-working junior associate (who, according to the woman, "will definitely be promoted anytime now"). Plus, he seemed to have known Miss Harris' grandmother because he, in his turn, asked about her health. Throughout the short chat, Emmett just smiled gratefully and rubbed the back of his neck that sometimes turned red at the sound of a compliment.

The line was a couple of people longer when Emmett and Elle left it. Elle, holding the colorful book near to her, looked back at the desk then at Emmett, who seemed strangely pleased. The two books he returned were still with him.

"A fan of yours?" Elle inquired, indicating Miss Harris, who was noticeably more cheerful.

"Huh? No. She was sort of my mentor before, when I was a freshman." Then, he added, turning to her with a small smile, "Like you."

"She seems very grateful to see you."

"I offered her some legal help once."

"About her grandmother?"

"Yeah. Some misunderstanding with the hospital."

"Must have been a big deal."

"It was," Emmett said, then, he became serious, and added, "It shouldn't have been though." A sigh escaped him and he was quiet for a while, probably pondering on what had happened. Elle was eager to know what it was. She could still see in her mind Miss Harris' grateful expression and, watching Emmett's serious face now, she grew more curious.

"Sorry," he said, suddenly cheerful, "I guess you're not the only one who spaces out a bit." Elle could not help but laugh at that. Emmett, with a wide smile on his face, shook his head then turned to leave the library. Elle followed close behind him, feeling more comfortable with the teaching assistant now.

She thought of how convenient it was to meet a guy who goes around helping people. Maybe it was part of his job as TA. In any case, now that she knew a bit about Emmett, he didn't seem like the typical lawyer, Elle thought. Elle always saw attorneys as serious professionals who wore plain monochromatic hues and who intimidated the truth out of people. She didn't want to be a lawyer but she wanted to be ruthless, tough and, most of all, serious like one. Emmett, however, exuded the opposite. He was shy, gentle and, most shocking of all, he had a sense of humor. Whoever thought lawyers could laugh? She would never have thought of it looking at Professor Callahan and Vivienne.

Elle was thinking about all the law people she knew so far, when, suddenly, she saw the back of Warner's head behind a nearby bookshelf. She stopped and pulled Emmett's jacket. Shocked, Emmett wheeled around and saw Elle crouch behind him, hiding. He looked around alarmed then relaxed when he realized who she could have seen. He sniggered a little (much to Elle's embarrassment) then turned to Elle.

"If it's alright with you, I think I better go," Emmett said, handing to her the two books he was carrying, "Those are Callahan's books, by the way. I returned them but I didn't hand them over 'cause you might want to borrow them yourself."

"Thanks but I'd rather stick to my picture book," Elle replied, pointing to the book she had already stacked in her bag. "You sure you have to go?"

"Yeah," he sighed, putting his hands in his pocket, "I just remembered I have some unfinished business to attend to." His gaze looked absentminded at first, reminding Elle of his expression a while back. Then, he focused back at Elle. He bowed his head in a way of goodbye then strode to the door.

Elle watched him leave the library. Immediately after, she looked around for Warner. She weaved her way through the maze of bookshelves then she spotted him searching through the aisles. It was as if they were star-crossed lovers searching through walls and people, hoping to see each other. Elle was thrilled with the idea and skipped to where Warner was.

She stood behind him, fixed her skirt, combed her hair then straightened up, before she finally tapped his shoulder. He turned around and Elle tried not to swoon at the way his jaw moved and his hair shook. Trying to compose herself, she hugged tightly the heavy books in her arms.

"Oh, Warner! Fancy seeing you here," said Elle, mentally kicking herself for sounding like she rehearsed her line.

"Elle!" exclaimed Warner, almost instinctively looking around to see if he was in the right place, "What are you doing in the library?"

"Studying. Duh." Then, she let out a loud laugh. After getting no response from Warner, she fidgeted a bit. "You? What are you doing here?" she asked, while striving to absentmindedly twirl the ends of her hair.

"Vivienne and I were looking for those books Callahan assigned us to read."

"Oh, is that so? By the way, Warner, I was thinking... We could... Um, Warner? We should have a study... Date... Warner?"

It was difficult getting Warner's attention. He kept craning his neck over the bookshelves and while Elle was not really short, she still found it discomforting to talk to his chest. Elle could have easily taken the risky approach where she bats her eyelashes and wears a really provocative dress. Or she could even have used UCLA cheerleading team's greatest weapon, the Bend and Snap, to get Warner to look at her. However, Elle was determined to win the battle of love fair and square. What chance did Vivienne have if Elle used all her charms? And, anyway, she promised never to be trashy again. She was in Harvard and she was to play by its laws of love.

Huffing in frustration, she stood straight then tugged on Warner's shirt.

"Excuse me, Warner," she said, assuming a straight face, then when Warner looked down at her in bored anticipation, she cleared her throat and continued, "Perhaps these are the books you've been looking for?"

Warner stared at them, not believing what he was seeing. For a few seconds, he opened and closed his mouth in confusion and shock. He looked at the books and at Elle. Elle, on the other hand, was enjoying the spectacle of seeing Warner speechless. Plus, she missed seeing his big smile. The beating of her heart quickened as she remembered all those times she made him happy. She beamed back at him, hoping to make him remember those times too.

"I've been looking all over for those! Where did you find them?"

"Didn't you ask the librarian?"

"Well... She wouldn't entertain us. Typical librarian, you know."

Elle felt a pinch of irritation at this remark but she brushed it off, thinking Warner didn't know better. They were standing there, quiet for a while. Warner bit his lip as if contemplating something. Then, looking at Elle from the side, he grinned. Elle knew that grin. It was the same charming smile he had when they first met. Goosebumps rose in Elle's skin and she almost giggled in excitement. Strangely, at the back of her head, she also recalled that he smiled that same smile when he told her she looked perfect before he broke the news that he wasn't... Elle, without meaning to be aggressive, shoved the two sturdy books in Warner's hands. He nearly stepped backward with the force.

"Sorry," winced Elle, keeping her eyes on the ground, "You can go ahead and take these. I already read them anyway." Through the fringes of her hair, she took a peek to see Warner's expression. He seemed very pleased, although still stunned.

"You're done reading these?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then," said Warner, though his eyebrows were raised in doubt, "I guess I owe you one." He winked at her, making Elle's stomach flutter.

This could be her chance to ask him out. Not on a date, of course. That would be disrespectful to Vivienne. But, maybe it was okay to ask Warner to study with her. Elle didn't need to close her eyes to imagine it. She had it all planned long ago. They would have study sessions every night. He would teach her then she would impress him with her intelligence. They would review together, quiz each other on law trivia... Just sitting beside each other while reading would be a treat. Then, when they were done studying, they would talk about their dreams and fears and hopes and past and everything they haven't talked about before. It wasn't as romantic as going out to watch a movie or to eat in a restaurant but she was willing to take any chance Harvard had to offer. During their study sessions, Warner would fall in love with her again and she would finally get her prize.

"Actually, Warner, I was thinking-"

"Well, Vivienne's waiting for me," Warner interrupted, looking at a text message in his phone, "Best be off. Thanks again for the books." Without even giving her a second glance, he walked away, clutching the two books in his arms. Elle shuffled her feet, not certain whether to stay or to follow. Warner already turned a corner though.

"Alright!" she said, loudly, hoping Warner would hear her, "You're welcome! And see you in class!"

The librarian's bell rung warningly together with the irritated shh of the librarian herself. Everybody in the library was looking at Elle, who was fixed on the spot, clutching tightly on the strap of her bag. She looked around to see the people still judging her with their stares. In an attempt to hold on to the positivity that was slowly dwindling within her, she smiled. Tossing her hair to one side, she raised her head then left the library.

Outside, she saw that the sun was still high in the sky. Though there were a few clouds scattered around the sun, the air remained still and warm. Elle missed the weather in California but a day like this was enough for her. Feeling cheerful again, she checked her bag for her sunglasses. While rummaging through her bag, she caught a glimpse of something glossy red. It was her colorful law book.

Putting on her shades, she smiled to herself as she thought that this would be the first time she had borrowed anything from the Harvard library. That was certainly an achievement for the day.

* * *

**How was it? Please do tell me. Review, review, review! Thank you!**

**Oh, and just a little teaser: next chapter is gonna be another Elle-less Emmett POV. I'm gonna explain why, next time. So, hold on...**

**By the way, I'm now into SMASH (finished watching the 1st season) and Thoroughly Modern Millie. Listening to their soundtracks non-stop. Hehe. (I will try Newsies and West Side soon!)**


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